


The Inside Joke

by asubeda



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-25 14:38:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6198922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asubeda/pseuds/asubeda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The motorcycle. The book. The drug. The ladder. And the one who never remembers. Who knows, maybe they were always there, under a shadow, around a corner, behind a bookshelf, in the coffee beans...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**I**

“You comin’ or what?” called Shirazu from the corner.

His friend, weary looking and red cheeked, looked first at him then at the beer bottle in his hands. He shook the bottle a few times, unsatisfied with the sound and drank the last drops of cheap alcohol. He hit the bottom of the bottle, hoping to bring out more beer.

“Oi, you’ve had enough. Let’s go already!” yelled Shirazu, hitting the engines of his motorcycle and tapping his feet impatiently. “They ain’t gonna wait long, ya know!”

“They gotta wait,” said his friends, looking at the bottle before breaking the glass on the wall next to him. He grinned at the sharp edges of broken glass, pointing it towards Shirazu. “They gotta wait, can’t start if we’re not there.”

“Yeah, sure,” Shirazu growled at him. He got on his motorcycle and started the engines. His friend kicked the bottle away before mimicking him. “We goin’ the short way?”

“Nah, I don’t want the police at my tail, dude,” said his friend, cringing at the thought. “Don’t care if we’re late, I don’t wanna go to jail.”

Shirazu rolled his eyes. “Like we ever got caught,” he muttered under his breath.

“Whatcha said?”

“Nothin’,” Shirazu called. “Let’s go.” He started driving, constantly checking on his side mirror to make sure his friend followed him. When he saw the red bike following him, he focused on the road and drove fast.

The night was cold. The wind kept hitting his uncovered face, freezing his muscles. He hated the cold on his face; it made his eyes dry and mouth hurt when he got off the motorcycle. But he couldn’t be a _hooligan_ if he wore a helmet and gloves. It wasn’t healthy, but he had to keep the image up.

They chose the narrow alleys and abandoned roads to get to their destination. That way, they could avoid getting caught by the police – if there were no patrols, that is. You could never be sure. Those bastards would use any excuse to get their hands on people like Shirazu and his _pack_.

Shirazu let his eyes leave the road for a few seconds, looking at the train that passed them quickly. He never used the train lately; he didn’t really miss it. It was cramped, smelly and full of people looking at him with _dark judgement_ on their faces. Shirazu hated seeing those rich fat ladies shaking their heads and telling their granddaughters to stay away from people like him. He had a sister – he knew how to treat a girl.

He noticed the construction just before he turned his head away. All he could hear was the roaring of the wind in his ears as his friend went past him, his laughter following trail. He wasn’t looking where he was going; his hands were held up, waving around and Shirazu was sure he had gotten drunk. He shouldn’t have let his friend use his bike. But what did it matter to him? He was four years older than him; he should be able to take care of himself.

He glanced at his left again. Did he see a man standing on top of that construction? He blinked, adjusting his bike and checking his friend before he checked again. The man was gone, but there was a thick smoke rising from the ground. He thought he saw the lights of an ambulance nearby.

He was probably a little drunk too. A man with a clown mask standing on top of a construction in the middle of the night? He shook his head and looked away.

His friend had gotten pretty far. He maneuvered around the parked cars in the narrow alley to reach his friend, but he was quickly getting out of his sight. He didn’t dare going faster than he already was and when his friend completely disappeared from his view, he thought if he should just give up. They were already too late; they would probably yell at them and remind them the rules again. He didn’t want to be scolded by a bunch of teenagers pretending to be Yakuza.

He drove to a nearly empty street and stopped the engines.

There was a café at the corner of the street, right next to the lamppost. He got off the motorcycle and tried to see if it was still open, but couldn’t tell. The sign was hidden in the dark; there was no way of telling even the name of the shop. He sighed.

“What a luck,” he growled, kicking the side of his motorcycle. He put his hands in the pockets of his worn out jacket and sat on the cold sidewalk, leaning against his motorcycle. “I could use somethin’ warm now.”

His breath was fogging in the air. It was so cold and his ears already felt frozen. He rubbed his ears in his palms and tried to warm them. His nose was cold too.

“Shit,” he kicked the road. “Shouldn’t’ve gone out tonight.” He looked around. It wasn’t a familiar place. “Hope sis doesn’t get too worried,” he muttered.

After getting up and walking around to warm himself up – which miserably failed – he returned to his bike. He got on it, rubbed his hand loving on the side of it and smiled. “Let’s go big girl,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

 


	2. II

****

Mutsuki Tooru stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself with a sour look on her face.

The dress was beautiful. Her hair was done so well that her face looked smaller and more defined. There was enough make-up; it wasn’t overwhelming, but it made her look like someone else – someone more beautiful and more _feminine._

 She didn’t like it one bit.

She took a deep sigh and turned around. She had to like it. She had to be comfortable in these kinds of clothes. Why did she feel so out of place in what is supposed to be a natural part of her daily life? She was a _girl_ and she was supposed to like _girly_ things.

She shook her head and took off her dress, putting it neatly on her bed. She wiped away her make-up, combed her hair into its usual look and took off her bra. Then she sat down in the middle of the room and cried.

Her wardrobe was filled with jeans and t-shirts. She had read online that some girls liked to have a boyish look, preferring to wear pants instead of skirts or dresses. But even those kinds of girls had a certain _feminine_ air around them; the loose pants or manly shirts didn’t change their curves or erased the make-up on their faces. They seemed content with being curvy or looking alluring. They looked like they enjoyed the attention they received from men.

Mutsuki sniffed and used her wrist to wipe her tears away.

That wasn’t just that. They liked _being girls._ They liked what they were and didn’t feel out of place. While Mutsuki, looking at her bare breasts right now and cringing inside, couldn’t bare her own sex.

It wasn’t that she hated women - it would be unreasonable – but she hated being a part of them. She couldn’t recall when these feelings started, but when she noticed she couldn’t relate to the women around her, she knew there was no turning back. She had taken a road which would take her somewhere she felt safe.

But she couldn’t find the courage in herself to take a step towards her light.

Mutsuki got up and walked towards her wardrobe. She wore a new bra, put on her shirt and jeans, emptied her small bag into her giant backpack and put on her snickers. When she looked at the mirror and ignored her chest, she realized she felt much better.

She got out and took a deep breath. The leaves were falling and it was chilly, but Mutsuki had always liked the cold air*. She looked at her bike but decided to walk. The bookstore was close to her house after all.

Walking down the street, she could see the news on TVs in the cafés and restaurants she walked past. There were new deaths, people going missing, accidents and extraordinary last-minute surgeries. The police was working double-shift these days. She felt pity for them, along with thankfulness.

When she reached the bookstore, the first thing she noticed was the crowd. She hesitated for a minute and tried to read the sign on the window.

“Book signing?” she muttered to herself. The boy next to her turned and smiled at her.

“Yup! Takatsuki Sen,” he answered cheerfully. “You know her?”

Mutsuki shook her head. “Sorry, I have no idea,” she bowed. The boy just laughed and scratched his cheek.

“Nah, no problem. I don’t read her books too. Got in the line for a friend.”

Mutsuki smiled and bowed again, bidding him goodbye. The boy just grinned and waved at her. If he noticed the way Mutsuki was holding herself, he didn’t mention.

She went around the crowd until she reached the self-help books section. She took a deep breath and started scanning through the books. Online comments hadn’t given her what she wanted; maybe good old printed text would provide her with better resources.

She found a book. On the gray cover with white letters wrote “ _Sex and Gender: The Differences and the Right to Choose_ ”. She took a deep breath and allowed a smile on her face. It was written by a male American author, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t about culture or sex. There were some people like her. Just knowing this was enough to give her hope.

She chose three more books from the shelves and, zipping around the crowd, found the cashier. She quickly paid for the books, not even cringing at the expensiveness of them, and happily put them in her backpack.

On her way out, she noticed the guy walking out of the bookstore, typing a message on his phone with a worried look on his face. When he glanced up and noticed her looking, he waved and gave her a big smile.

She smiled back and responded with a small wave. There were still nice people left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *- I don’t know if he likes it or not. It’s just for the sake of the plot.


	3. III

**III**

_Faith in humanity restored._

That was what Saiko thought when she watched an old man cleaning the broken glass shards in the alley. A mid-aged woman, maybe his daughter, was holding a cat whose left paw was bandaged.

_Five points to the elderly._

She clutched at the bag in her hand and walked away.

She had to get home. Her brother was sick, so the shopping duty was hers today. She had to stop in the middle of a game just to run to the nearest shop – which was three _whole_ blocks away – and buy milk, bread and other necessities. She also had to run by the pharmacy to get her brother’s _Cold Away_.

She didn’t mind going to the shop and helping her mom. Taking care of her brother made her feel responsible and important too, so it was nice too. It was just –

_One shall not pause a game._

It wasn’t fair. All she ever wanted was to sleep in and play video games in the comfortable, private zone of her room. Was it so bad? Every time she found some free time to lock herself up in her room, she was forced to go out.

Saiko your brother is sick, Saiko I’m not feeling so well, Saiko this, Saiko that…

Okay, she was in her room 6 days a week but what if she was supposed to come across the big prize on the 7th day? She couldn’t risk it.

But here she was, walking down the street, doing housework for her mom and brother, being all responsible and grown up. Well, change wasn’t _always_ bad.

She got inside the pharmacy store and looked at the pharmacist. “I need a _Cold Away_ ,” she said, standing two feet away from the counter. The pharmacist looked away from his previous customer, an elderly looking man, and bent over the counter to look closely at Saiko.

“You’re that Yonebayashi girl, aren’t you?” he said. She nodded. He tsked and pointed at her, looking at the old man again. “Her mom always buys things from me and she never gives me my money!” He looked at her again. “Kid, tell your mom there isn’t any drugs for you until you pay for what you bought.”

She dug inside her pockets and took out some money. “Is this enough?”

The pharmacist looked at the money and let out a small laugh. “That’s enough? Do you know how much you owe me?”

“How much does she owe?” said the old man. The pharmacist looked at him. He thought for a second, then told him the money. Saiko wanted to complain, saying that it was too much, but the old man was quicker than her. He took out his wallet and put some money on the counter.

“I’ll cover for her this time,” he said with a smile. Then he turned towards her and put his wrinkly hand on her head. “But don’t let it pile up this much again.”

She nodded, feeling the warmness of a blush creeping around her cheeks. The man nodded approvingly and took a bag from the pharmacist. Saiko noticed the bandages.

“See you later,” the man said. She couldn’t make out the name the pharmacist called after him and was too embarrassed to ask.

The pharmacist pushed a _Cold Away_ towards her. “Here,” he said with a wide grin on his face. “You got lucky today.”

She grabbed the drug and put it in the bag along with the money in her hands. She quickly got out of the store.

_Kindness level: epic._

 


	4. IV

**IV**

When Urie looked at people, he noticed small things about them.

Some people were very content with being who they are, for instance. They didn’t strive to be anything else. Standing on the ladder of knowledge was enough for them – they had no desire to go up or down. They corrupted the ladder, crowded and polluted the air and blocked his way. Those kinds of people deserved being elbowed away as he climbed up towards the peak.

Some wanted to reach that peak, the ultimate knowledge and title, but they never got to take the next step. Either they were too slow, or blind with their eagerness, that they never made it past a few steps. Urie always got in front of them, never ceasing to look back at them to show them the difference between him and a silly _rabbit_.

The rest were successful people. The class presidents, the CEOs, the chief commanders. Those were the ones who reached Urie’s goal. Urie hated them even more, because they took up too much space there and always looked down on him, like he looks down on the rest. They always made him feel inferior, weak, talentless – like he would never get there. Urie hated them and would push them all down if he could reach that peak.

Then there was Urie. The one who had to climb all those stairs on his own – the one who always had people pulling at his ankles and wrists, pulling him down… Urie was always fighting to climb the ladder of knowledge and title, unlike those snobby winners.

Oh, how he hated _everyone_.

He put on his earphones and raised the volume of his music. He raised his chin and never looked at anyone on the road. He wasn’t like _them_ and he would never _fall_ to their level. He made a clear distinction between him and _those other people_ – and he made it clear to anyone who tried to approach him.

He didn’t need anyone to pull him up. He could very well put his steps forward himself.

He walked past a bookstore, noticing the crowd. There was a book signing event going on, of some author he wasn’t familiar with. He inwardly rolled his eyes.

He saw a pharmacy across the street. An old man was getting out of it, holding a bag and pulling his coat up so it would keep his neck warm. He glanced at the pharmacy’s name, noting it in case he needed anything from there.

He noticed a few motorcycles on the corner. He hated those loud teenagers. He changed his way just so he didn’t have to walk next to them and had to smell the gas their motorcycles emitted.

Further on, he stopped at the lights. There were a lot of people there, so he raised the volume even more. He didn’t even look at the people who walked past him.

He didn’t want to interact with other people. He was pretty content in his own world; no corruption, no crowd, no distraction. Just a clear path on the ladder he had to climb.

He didn’t need any comrades.


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes  
> Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this story so far. This is the last chapter, so I wanted to thank everyone who read and reviewed the story. Also, I want to explain some things a little bit.  
> Throughout the story, there have been small things put around. I believe in “Chekov’s Gun” idea, so they weren’t there meaninglessly. I want to remind you of them, in case I wasn’t clear enough.  
> At first we met Shirazu riding a motorcycle next to a construction and he sees a man with a clown mask (The beginning of Kaneki’s journey). Then we met Mutsuki going to a bookstore and asking a person the way (Hide getting a book signed for Kaneki). With Saiko I put two references; one with Shirazu (the broken bottles) and the other with Yoshimura (the old man at the pharmacy). Last one was Urie and he sees references for all of his future colleagues and possibly walked just next to Kaneki at the lights.  
> When I read it for a second time after posting it, I realized I could’ve done better with the references; that’s why I felt the need to put them in a list.  
> In this final chapter, it’s Sasaki’s turn to show his connection to Kaneki’s life. I know they basically share the same body, but I can’t call Sasaki the-Kaneki-without-memories. Sasaki became a separate person in three years. His connection is something to do with distant memories.  
> I hope you like this chapter as well. I am very much thankful for your reviews.

Sasaki entered the house, putting his jacket on the holder. He took off his shoes as he announced that he’s arrived home. Mutsuki called from the kitchen, welcoming him home cheerfully. Urie walked past the hall, glancing at him and giving him a short nod. Shirazu looked at him from the back of the couch.

“Hi, Sassan! How was the lesson?”

Sasaki smiled at him. “They are really talented. They got the hang of it pretty quickly.” He went beside Mutsuki who was struggling with the coffee machine. “Is it broken again?”

“I guess so,” Mutsuki said, looking apologetically at Sasaki. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Don’t worry, I look at it tomorrow,” Sasaki put his hand on Mutsuki’s shoulder, squeezing. “For tonight, let’s make coffee in the old style.”

Mutsuki nodded, a small smile appearing on his face. “Can I watch?” he asked, leaning over the counter. Sasaki smiled as he washed his hands at the sink and mentioned at the coffee beans in the drawer. Mutsuki got them out and handed them to Sasaki.

“Watch closely,” Sasaki said. He put the beans in the lid and started heating the water. “You need to take the bad ones out.” He took a few beans in his hand and showed Mutsuki. He took one bean and put it away. “If you don’t do it, it’ll make the coffee sour and it’ll taste bad. You need to pay attention to every bean before you put them in the coffee.”

Mutsuki nodded, watching closely. Sasaki made sure he could see everything he did, happy that he could interact with his kids like this.

“Where’s Saiko?” Sasaki asked as he poured water carefully over each cup.

“Playing video games probably,” said Shirazu, coming to the kitchen. “Oh, you’re making coffee?”

“Yes,” Mutsuki said as he took his cup and smelled it. “You want some?”

“Why not,” said Shirazu, taking a deep breath. “It smells nice.”

Sasaki pushed his cup towards Shirazu. “You can drink mine,” he said, taking another cup. “I’ll make another one. And can you ask Urie if he wants to join?” Shirazu got the cup and took a sip, making a noise to show how much he liked it before going towards Urie’s room, yelling on the way.

“He’s in a good mood,” said Sasaki, pouring water for himself. Mutsuki looked at his mentor, holding the cup in both of his hands.

“You too,” he said in a small voice. Sasaki raised his eyebrow. “You looked like you were pretty tired last night, but you seem okay right now.” Their mentor just shrugged, mimicking Mutsuki’s pose and sipping his coffee. A nostalgic look passed his face before he spoke.

“Making coffee makes me feel calm,” Sasaki said, swirling the coffee in his cup. “It’s… A good feeling. Relaxing. It’s kind of like meditating.” He raised his head and looked at Mutsuki, giving him a gentle smile. “Also, I like this. It feels like a family here.”

Mutsuki looked at Sasaki for a second. Then looked down and nodded. “It does… Even though we only recently became part of each other’s lives…”

“Who knows,” said Sasaki and winked at Mutsuki when the younger one raised his head to look at him. “Maybe we met before.”

_In a different life._


End file.
